Anne Gracie - Gallant Waif

“I kept house for an old gentleman for a long time and he insisted I learn to speak proper-like. He was a true scholar, sir, and a Reverend he was, too, and he hated what he called the mangling of the English language.”

He did not appear to notice that her accent had broadened considerably during this speech, a fact which Kate found immensely encouraging. She twisted her hands awkwardly, as she imagined a rustic wench would, when confronted by a handsome gentleman.

“He taught me to read and write and cipher an’ all,” she added ingenuously, regarding him with wide, innocent eyes—which she was tempted for a moment to cross, but didn’t.

“But you understand Spanish,” Jack persisted. “Where does a kitchen maid come to know a foreign tongue like that?”

“I imagine there are hundreds of kitchen maids in Spain,” she responded pertly, her eyes downcast to hide the mischief in them.

“Don’t be impertinent, girl; you know perfectly well I was asking how an English kitchen maid like you came to know Spanish. It’s obvious to me that you have no Spanish blood.”

She beamed up at him foolishly. “You’re absolutely right, sir—no Spanish blood at all. You are a clever gentleman. Coo, so you are.”

The chit was playing games with him again! He was hard put to it not to laugh—except that he had an equally strong impulse to turn her over his knee. How on earth had this cheeky little miss survived this long without being strangled, let alone kept a position in a household? He couldn’t imagine his grandmother putting up with this type of cheek from a maidservant. His mouth quirked in some amusement. His grandmother would not take kindly to competition in the art of impertinence and this little baggage was every bit her equal.

“Enough of your sauce, girl. I asked you how an English maid came to understand Spanish.”

“Oh, the gentleman did a lot of foreign travel and it were easier for him to take me than leave me behind, so a’ course I was bound to pick up some of the lingo, wasn’t I? Will that be all, sir?” she asked humbly, her head bent to hide her laughter.

She could see perfectly well that she hadn’t satisfied his curiosity, and that he didn’t like it. He was used to being in control. Well, he wasn’t going to control her. He’d be furious when he found out who she really was, but it served him right for jumping to conclusions. And for the spider.

“Hmm. Yes, all right,” he mumbled ungraciously.

Kate bobbed him the sort of rustic curtsey her old nurse used to make to her father, and picked up the tray. She stepped lightly down the stairs, her mouth trembling on the verge of laughter as she imagined his face when his grandmother finally explained who she was.

Jack watched her slight figure disappear, then turned and knocked at his grandmother’s door.

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